IYANA CAME downstairs when one of the dorm staff told her someone was waiting. As she descended, she saw Danica Ang sitting stiffly in the lounge.
Danica rose the moment their eyes met.
Up close, her nose was red and her cheeks flushed. Not from makeup, but like she'd been sick. With the oversized sunglasses and the dark coat, she looked as though she'd just come back from a funeral.
Iyana crossed her arms.
"What is it?" she asked flatly.
"You're really smart and unbelievable, Miss Jiran," Danica said. Her voice was strained, muted, as if speaking hurt. "I know Lyron has feelings for you. I didn't think he'd go this far."
Iyana's lips curved. "Oh? What did he do?"
Danica's eyes hardened.
She hated Iyana's mocking gaze.
"Pretentious. You act so high and mighty, like you despise talentless people. But without Lyron defending you, you wouldn't have been able to stop those rumors."
Iyana's breath came out soft, amused.
"So… you started the rumors?"
"Then you admit you asked him for help?" Danica shot back.
Iyana tilted her head, smiling faintly.
"First of all, I've never cared. Second, no one would dare say that to my face. You know why, Miss Ang? Because I'd challenge them to an academic contest."
Her brow arched.
"And third, I've never asked Lyron for help. Why would I?"
"I don't believe you!" Danica snapped.
Her mother said Iyana Jiran had a backer—someone powerful enough to make all the investors in the Angs' hotel project pull out, all because of the rumors. And now she, the only daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the Greater Capital, had no choice but to leave the country.
Who was this backer?
She couldn't find a direct link to Lyron, but his attitude at Arsenio's party was suspicious. And the Gosuico clan… their two-hundred-year history made them more dangerous than even the Borzas.
Danica clenched her fists.
"What I'm sure of is you have a backer cruel enough to send me away over a stupid post. I've heard your paper is sponsored. I bet your backer's funding it—"
"Danica?"
They turned.
Lyron was standing in the hall.
Iyana sighed, while Danica bit her lip.
"Lyron, was it you who made me—"
But her words were cut short. A woman in business attire and a suited man appeared—the Ang family's secretary and bodyguard.
Danica stiffened.
Without another word, she strode out of the hall.
The two followed close behind.
...
THE HALL fell silent.
A few girls passed by, lingering with their eyes on Lyron before heading upstairs. Nobody remained in the lounge. And for a moment, Iyana and Lyron stood wordlessly. He was about to speak when a delivery man entered with a bouquet in his hands.
"Miss Jiran?"
Iyana looked at the tulip flowers.
They were clearly meant for her.
"I'll sign it," she said.
The man smiled. "Good morning, Miss."
She signed and took the bouquet from the desk. Holding it to her chest, she leaned close to the petals. Still fresh.
"Great. Who's sending it?" Lyron asked with a small smile.
"Just someone."
"Engineering student too?" he teased.
She glanced at him, then back to the flowers.
"No idea. Maybe."
"Anonymous?" he frowned. "You shouldn't accept things from strangers."
She sighed. "Why are you here?"
He combed back his hair.
"Well… just to see if you're okay."
"I'm fine. My paper got funded."
"Oh? Good," Lyron nodded. "I mean I'm sorry about Danica, and all the rumors."
Iyana smiled.
None of this was even his fault.
"So… did you do something? Danica said she was going abroad."
"Abroad?" Lyron blinked. "Why would she go abroad?"
"She thought you forced her to."
He frowned. "The Angs are well-connected. They're part of the Chamber. Who could make them back down?"
Iyana only shrugged.
"She thought I knew something. But really, what could a province girl like me do?"
Her smirk lingered as Danica's words echoed in her head.
Did she really have a backer?
Was this tied to her research funding?
If so, then what for?
The paper had been funded by a business club, nothing more.
"They must've made a serious enemy," Lyron said with a crooked smile. "In my world, you never know what might set someone off. Even the way someone walks can insult the wrong person. And there are plenty of them."
"Thank goodness I don't belong there," Iyana replied, smirking.
He chuckled.
For a while, their eyes lingered on each other. Then his gaze dropped to the bouquet. "Coincidence," he murmured. "There are a lot of red tulips back in Magnolia Ridge."
Iyana's eyes flickered. "Magnolia Ridge?"
"It's a horse-riding course with meadows and gardens. A country villa, a rest house, magnolias everywhere. There's even a pond. You wouldn't think it's in the Capital," he explained.
She nodded quietly.
"I mean… you could come with me," he said. "You're not going to the retreat, right? The Ridge has plenty of horses. Didn't you say you grew up with them in the province?"
"Tulips," she murmured.
Tulips didn't thrive in the Capital Region's heat. To grow them required hydroponics, greenhouses, and endless care. Yet the tulips she always received were alive, vivid red, and impossibly fresh. That meant they were grown here, in the city.
"Are you sure they're red? Does the Ridge sell them?"
"Yes. Lots. But no, they're not for sale."
Her eyes narrowed, thoughts drifting.
Magnolia Ridge.
"Let's go this Sunday," she whispered.
Lyron's smile spread.
He'd always wanted to take her there. The Ridge was usually booked solid, but this weekend it was free. And when he heard she wasn't going to the retreat, he seized the chance.
Still, unease settled in his chest.
Plenty of men liked Iyana. Some had even confessed. She rejected them all. But now someone dared to send her flowers anonymously.
Who was it?
*